A Little Unwell
by Aamalie
Summary: AU. It's bad enough to be sick. It's even worse when your best friend abandons you to your ex-boyfriend... especially when you're not exactly over him yet.


**Dedicated: **To Siren of Erised. Still. Even though I haven't talked to her in ages, and that still makes me sad.

**Disclaimer: **The lyrics used are taken from Lenny Kravitz's song, "Lady." (In my own defense, I wrote this like five years ago. I'm sorry, okay?)

-

**A Little Unwell**

-**  
**

"How bad is it?"

Kagome winced at the question as she slid the thermometer back into its box. Brushing her bangs out of her blue eyes, she sighed and gave her best friend an apologetic look.

"Still bad. You're doing a little better, but your temperature is still over 100 degrees."

Sango sighed, leaning back against her pillows. "Kagome-chan, whatever am I going to do without you?" she asked. She had been sick for over a week now, with few signs of it letting up. Kagome, ever kindhearted, had taken time out of her own life and work to drop by as often as she could to take care of Sango, but Sango should have known it wouldn't last. No, Kagome was leaving town that very night in order to spend the holidays with her family.

"Ah, well..." Kagome suddenly looked nervous, and let her dark bangs fall back into her face so that they shielded her eyes. When her fingers started to twist together awkwardly, Sango _knew_ something was up. She sat up slowly, so as to not induce a feeling of vertigo, and stared at Kagome.

"Kagome-chan... What aren't you telling me?"

"Well, Sango-chan... Seeing as how you're still sick, I can't just leave you alone to fend for yourself. And, I know you don't like hospitals, so..."

"So?"

Kagome had the decency to look abashed. "I took a few... liberties?"

Sango heaved a sigh, closing her eyes for a long moment before she bit out, "What kind of liberties?"

"Er, you see... I arranged for... Someone... To come take care of you."

"Who?"

Kagome began to fidget again, blatantly agitated. "Um… Miroku-kun?"

Oh, no.

No.

She _didn't_.

Sango ran a hand through her auburn hair. "Kagome-chan. Why in the _world_ would you enlist his help in taking care of me? God! He's my ex-boyfriend. Do you take joy in setting me up for awkward situations?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Or are you just trying to set me up?"

Kagome's silence told it all.

Ah, well... It wasn't much of a secret that she'd wanted her two oldest friends to get back together ever since Sango had dumped him for being a bit too forward with a waitress while she was stuck in traffic on her way to a dinner date. After that, Sango had pretty much avoided Miroku at all costs, unless it was in a group setting. Even then, it was still a difficult situation for Sango, because, although she would never admit it out loud, she still really, really liked Miroku. As in, _really_.

Needless to say, Kagome's _meddling_ was not conducive to Sango's attempts to move on. At all.

"I'm sorry?" Kagome tried, hoping to appease Sango.

"No, you're not. But it's fine. I just won't let him in. That's what locks are for. You can call him and tell him that I don't need him. I can take care of myself."

"Ah... That reminds me. I sort of gave him a copy of your key?"

Sango stared. What was she? Insane? She had to be! Giving Miroku her key... He could make copies!

"Fine. I'll use the chain lock."

"I had Inuyasha remove that last night before I left. You were asleep."

"Kagome-chan--"

The younger woman suddenly stood up, interrupting. "Look... I know you don't like it that much. But, Miroku-kun was the only person I could find who had no plans over the holidays, and who I could trust enough to leave you with." Sango snorted, but her friend continued nevertheless. "He will take very good care of you, Sango-chan, because he's still head over heels for you."

That's what Sango was scared of.

"I'm really sorry that I can't stay myself," Kagome went on to say, "but I haven't seen my family in a few years, and I really want to check up on Souta and Jii-chan and Mama. And I'm not trying to set you guys up to get back together, Sango-chan. I'm really not. I _do_ want you guys to at least work out your differences and be friends again, because the long, uncomfortable silences that have been rising up between you two whenever you two and Inuyasha and I go out are really tedious."

"Don't worry about it," Sango sighed. "I'll live."

"Okay. I'll call when I get to Tokyo, okay?"

"Yeah. See you in two weeks."

That is, if she hadn't gone crazy by the time Kagome got back.

-

"Sango?"

She hadn't even heard the door open. Then again, she'd been too busy puking her guts out to hear just about anything. So, understandably, Sango was in just the _peachiest_ mood.

"Go away, Sekushii-san," she muttered, still hunched over her toilet when he found her. Sango heard him sigh when he saw her.

"Oh, Sango..." He crouched down next to her, and lightly touched her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Obviously, I'm not," Sango said. Miroku sighed again, then stood and left. He came back a minute later with a glass of water in hand. Privately grateful, she took it when it was offered, taking a sip and swishing it around in her mouth before spitting it into the toilet to dispel the lingering taste of vomit. That done, she sat back onto the cool tile and rested the back of her head against the wall, watching Miroku. He closed the toilet lid and flushed it, not bothering to look at the contents.

"So..." he said, dropping down onto the closed toilet. Sango couldn't help but notice that he looked much as he had the last time she'd seen him. He was still tall and lean and in shape. He still had those striking gray eyes that looked violet in the right lighting, and his black hair was still unruly and a tad too long by most people's standards, tied back into a short tail. Briefly, Sango remembered a time where she would teasingly let his hair down so that she could run her hands through it before he kissed her... But that was in the past, and Sango quickly brushed the memory to the back of her mind.

"What are you doing here?" she asked tiredly. He smiled _that_ smile, the one that she had always-- Sango made herself stop. _'Enough. I'm being silly... It must be the fever. I'm delirious.'_

"Kagome asked me to come help you, and I couldn't very well refuse. It wouldn't fit in with that chivalrous thing I've got going on."

"Yeah," Sango grumbled, staring at her checkered shower curtain. "You're chivalrous all right." She knew she was being bitter, but she didn't care. It wasn't as though she had exactly consented to be in this ridiculous situation anyway. Besides, long quiets meant that she didn't have to talk, and a long quiet it was.

"Sango..." Miroku finally forced himself to say, and she continued to avoid looking at him. "I can help you with anything you need. Really! You won't regret having me here, okay?"

She finally looked at him, glaring. "Let me see. My stomach feels like its dying, I have a headache that's just this side of a migraine, and my uterus is falling out. Can you help with that?" Really. Periods were _so_ inconvenient. She was sick enough- why did she have to have that to worry about too? Today was just not Sango's day.

Miroku seemed more amused than discouraged by her verbal lashing. "I'll see what I can do. Now, come on, let's get you to bed." He assisted her in getting up and half-carried her to her bedroom, much to Sango's displeasure.

The feeling of his hand against the small of her back was just a little too familiar for her tastes...

-

It had been three days since Kagome had left Sango with Miroku, and she still had an awful fever. Though, that wasn't to say that she wasn't more comfortable. Kagome, as much as Sango hated the fact, had been right. Miroku was taking good care of her; very good care. He was practically doting on her! He brought her whatever she asked for. Saltine crackers, chicken noodle soup, Sprite... He'd even gone out and bought her a heating pad for her cramps, insisting that she needn't bother to pay him back.

At the moment, he was in the front room, vacuuming. She could hear the motor running, and over it, the radio station he had turned on. It was an American one- he'd always liked their music, for some reason. Then again, a fair number of the people she knew did. It was inevitable when one had to study English from one's first year in school.

What was wrong, though, was that he was singing along with the song.

"_Don't need all my other ladies, I'm beggin' for this little lady. 'Cause I tell you she's cool. She's divine..."_

His voice echoed into her room, and Sango let out an unconscious sigh. Why did he have to be so... Miroku? Once she was better, she really would have to give Kagome a talking to. Even if she did want them to be friends again, forcing Sango into a situation like the one she was in now wasn't going to make any progress.

"_Never knew there was such a lady, that would make me want to straighten out my life at this time, but I find I'm thinkin' 'bout this pretty lady..."_

God, she missed him. He was always so cheerful and happy. He'd always been the light in her life.

Biting her lip, Sango rolled over and closed her eyes, trying to block out everything. Her thoughts, her lingering feelings, and most of all... Miroku.

-

"Here's your soup, Sango," Miroku said, handing her the bowl. "Careful. It's hot."

"Thank you, Sekushii-san," she mumbled, eating a spoonful before setting it on her nightstand to let it cool. After that, she rolled back over so that she faced away from Miroku. Sango almost expected him to say something, anything, but he didn't. The only sound that she could catch was that of him leaving, and then coming back a few moments later. She felt the bed shift when he sat down beside her, looking down at her face. She asked him what he wanted, her voice muffled by her pillows.

"Is there anything you need done? Chores? Shopping? Whatever it is, I'll do it for you." He offered her a warm smile, and she snapped her eyes shut so that she wouldn't be thrown into nostalgia.

"Laundry," she said, thinking fast. "Everything should already be sorted. The baskets are in my bathroom. The quarters are on my desk." As she lived in an apartment, there was no room for her own washer and dryer. Instead, there was a mini laundromat that only residents had access to. "Stay with the clothes though. People steal stuff sometimes."

"Okay." Miroku seemed to hesitate, before he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, although her eyes were still closed. "Merry Christmas."

Sango felt as though her heart was breaking.

It was once he left the apartment completely, her clothes in tow, that Sango allowed herself to open her eyes. Lying on the bed in front of her was a red box, about a foot long and a few inches wide, held closed by a silver ribbon. Sitting up, she forced herself to pull it into her lap with shaky hands. Slipping the ribbon off carefully, she willed herself to open the box.

Inside, resting on the black velvet covered bottom, was a single red rose.

Her breath caught, and she traced the curve of the petals reverently. A red rose... Everyone knew what it symbolized. A small card was tied to the stem, and she carefully picked the flower up so that she could read it.

"Still."

That was all.

A red rose meant, "I Love You."

He still loved her.

Sango couldn't help it. She started to cry.

-

Miroku returned about two hours later, balancing the two baskets of folded clothes precariously. "Where do you want..." he said, trailing off when he saw Sango. "Oh." She was sitting up on her bed, her head bowed over the sole rose he had given her. Cautiously, he set the laundry down beside the bedroom door to go take a seat at the foot of her bed. Sango glanced up at him, before flushing and dropping her head back down.

He considered her. She seemed drawn and tired, possibly from her sickness, but he would guess that she had been crying. It was rare, and he'd seen her do so only once or twice before, but it was a look he recognized.

He hadn't intended to make her cry.

"I meant it, you know," Miroku said softly, unable to keep the hopeful edge from his tone.

"I know," she whispered.

"Then... I... Do you... Ah..." Miroku stopped, words failing him for only the second time he could remember. The first had been when Sango had broken off their relationship.

She knew what he was trying to say. "I don't know."

"Sango..." he was silently begging her to explain, so she did.

"It's just... hard. I don't know what to think. I don't know if I could trust you like I did, even though I want to. I'm not sure of what I feel, or what I want to say... I don't know what I should do about this!" She brandished the rose, but let it drop with a cry when she pricked her finger on a thorn. "Damn it!"

Miroku quickly rose to go grab the small medical kit she kept in her bathroom. Once he had returned, he drew her hand away from her face, as she had tried to soothe her finger by placing it in her mouth. Wiping away the blood with an alcohol wipe, he quickly applied antiseptic before covering the small injury with a Band-Aid. Giving Sango a small grin, he kissed her finger before letting go of her hand and withdrawing his own.

She caught his hand, tightening her fingers around his. "Miroku..." He squeezed back, moving to touch her cheek fondly. She sighed.

"I understand. I should have treated you better, instead of flirting around. I'm sorry, Sango. And I miss you. I miss your smile, and your laugh. I miss watching old movies with you on the couch, and falling asleep halfway through. I miss waking up the next morning, with you warm in my arms. I miss touching you-"

She cut him off. "Me, or my butt?"

He chuckled, bringing a watery smile to her face. "Both. You know what else I miss?"

"What do you miss?" she asked quietly as he stroked her hair, before taking a moment to trace the shape of her lips.

"I miss kissing you."

"Well," Sango said, "if you kiss me now, you might get sick."

He did it anyway.

"Merry Christmas, Sango," he intoned warmly, when he pulled away. She pulled him close so that she was in his embrace, her head against his shoulder.

"Merry Christmas."

-

"Here's your soup."

Miroku groaned as he sat up, taking the bowl. "God... This is awful."

Sango giggled, ruffling his bangs as she would have her brother's when he was younger. "I told you not to kiss me. But no, you wouldn't listen. It's your own fault."

He gave her a roguish grin. "It was worth it."

"If you say so." Sango checked her watch. "I need to go pick Kagome-chan up from the airport."

"No you don't."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why is that?"

The grin widened.

"Because. As my lovely, heaven-sent and beloved girlfriend, it's your duty to stay here and keep me company, like I kept you company when you were unwell! Oh, I know! You can keep me warm; help me sweat out this fever." He gave her a wink and made to pull her in, but Sango rolled her eyes and easily evaded his grasp.

"Keep dreaming, Miroku."

And, blowing him a kiss, Sango made her exit.


End file.
